


The After Life.

by withoutwords



Category: Jongens | Boys (2014)
Genre: Coming Out, First Love, M/M, Sieg's family, deals with homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 08:52:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4013443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutwords/pseuds/withoutwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Acceptance is the last – and longest - step.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The After Life.

**Author's Note:**

> Coda post-movie when Sieg returns home after going to see Marc.
> 
> (I spent ten minutes trying to think of a title about soles and souls that wasn't terribly cheesy. Clearly, I failed. <3)

Eddy and Dad are sitting in the kitchen when Sieg gets back. When Eddy leaps to his feet (his jaw set and fingers curled, angry) Dad swings out out an arm; but it’s _Sieg_ he turns that look onto, it’s _Sieg_ who’s disappointed him. The night’s warmth and good feeling fall to his feet.

“I’m sorry,” he says, hanging his head, but he’s still trying to work out what he’s sorry for. Stealing, joyriding, worrying his dad. Marc? Is he sorry for Marc?

“What’s going on, kid?”

There’s silence. Sieg looks at them, looks at all he has in the whole world, and says, “I’m in love,” as if that is even the half of it. It’s not the what, or when, it’s who and why. It’s Marc, and running, and the only good things he’s had in his life since mum died.

And maybe that’s part of it? Eddy’s anger and Dad’s disappointment, maybe that’s just part of this cog they’ve been turning since she’s been gone. Because some kid got behind the wheel that night, some poor, stupid kid, and they could hate each other for it or they could unite. 

“With Jessica?” Eddy asks, and he sounds completely bewildered. 

“ _Neen_.” Sieg says, and breathes, and just does it, just dares to, like Marc said. “With Marc.”

*

(“Do you want this?” Marc asks, his forehead touched to Sieg’s temple, the porch light gathering around his face. “Say it.”

“I want this,” Sieg assures him, fingernails digging into his palms where they’re pressed against Marc’s back. He’s so soft, and warm, and right. He’s home. “I just want _you_.”)

*

It’s simple to say, because she’s gone, but his mum would have been okay with it. He believes that. She would have made that smelly tea and put her hand on his hand and said something worn out, like, “I’m here for you.” Sieg would have rolled his eyes, if she were here, and laughed, but now he just aches for it, he just _aches_.

“You’re not going _anywhere_ ,” his dad is yelling downstairs, Sieg’s belly pressed to the floorboards and his ear perched next to the gap under the door. They fight, Dad and Eddy, but they don’t fight about him.

“You’re just going to stand there?”

“What else can I do?”

“Go find him,” Eddy shouts, Sieg’s fingernails digging into the wood. “Tell him to stay away.”

“Eddy,” Dad says, and he sounds so tired. Tired of their endless struggle.

“What? I couldn’t have a motorbike but Sieg can have a _boyfriend_?”

“No-one said - ”

“Sieg never breaks the rules!” Eddy cuts in, and there’s a clatter of something, the truth. “You think he’d take off for anything less?”

*

(“I’m still angry,” Marc says, Sieger turning off the engine and Marc sliding off the seat. He stays close, digs his fingers in, stakes claim. “Do you know that?”

“Yes,” Sieg says with a nod, his hands fixed on the bars for balance but his head drawing up for a kiss. He can apologise over and over with words, or he can give Marc something no-one else gets. Not again, not any more. “I know.”)

*

Sieg stands in the doorway, the fingers of one hand wrenched in the other. Eddy’s hunched against the counter, Dad’s slumped at the table and Sieg feels like a boxer, with everyone in their corners. All this time he’s been fighting himself, but the fight has changed now.

He’d rather not fight at all. 

“I didn’t want to be gay,” Sieg says, choosing a spot on the floor to talk to. “But I – I don’t want to feel like this any more.”

Everything’s still. Sometimes the television will be humming in the background, or the radio will be chattering on sport. Sometimes the neighbours will be yelling or their cat will be scratching out the front. It’s never this quiet. It hasn’t been this quiet since mum died. 

“You’re _fine_ ,” Eddy finally says, and his arms seem to cross tighter over his chest. His teeth grind. “You’ve been _cool_. Then you met that fucking - ”

“Eddy,” Dad says, and Sieg feels a heat rise in his chest.

“It’s not like that! It’s not just Marc, it’s – it’s just me, alright? _I’m just me_.”

“Okay, boys - ”

“And I haven’t been _cool_ ,” Sieg surges on, gaining momentum, running downhill and unable to brace for impact. “I’ve been angry, and sick, and sad, I’m sick of feeling _sad_.”

“We’re all sad, _idioot_ , you think dad’s not sad?”

“Yeah, he is, because you’re such an _arsehole_ ,”

Eddy makes a quick movement, and Dad’s chair clatters behind him, but instead of throwing punches Eddy is slamming the front door behind him. His angry, kicking footsteps trail off into nothingness and Sieg wonders who won that round.

He wonders what he’s lost.

*

(“Tomorrow,” Marc tells him, Sieg’s back pressed against a tree, leaves tickling at their face. He laughs. “We’ll go swimming.”

“Okay,” Sieg concedes, because he did promise that, he wanted that more than anything last night. He talks quietly into Marc’s mouth, a breath, “Then the day after that, and the day after that,”)

*

Eddy used to be Dad’s favourite. Before mum, before his job fell through, before all of that. In their other life. Sieg didn’t mind being second to Eddy, he didn’t mind the solitude. Dad and Sieg did the crossword every Sunday, and mum helped with his Geography homework on Monday, and Eddy had training most other days.

They worked it out.

In this life, ( _the after life_ , he could say, what a great joke) Eddy didn’t want to run. He didn’t want to talk, or listen, or work. He didn’t want Dad’s attention. So Sieg got it.

“I don’t,” Dad starts, and then stops. “It’s not - ” he tries again. Sieg feels it burning in his throat. A few hours ago his dad was brimming with pride, so stark and bright it seemed to overflow. Now he can’t even look Sieg in the eye.

“It’s okay,” Sieg tells him, across the table. “I know it’s hard.”

“I just don’t understand.”

“Yeah. But – but do you – will you let me see him?” he asks, a sudden, curdling feeling that they would do what Eddy threatened. That they would keep them apart. What’s the point of being _Sieg_ if it means he can’t be Sieg _with Marc_? “Can I – I just need to see him.”

“Marc?”

“Yeah. I – he’s my friend. He’s …”

“Is he in love with you?”

“I don’t know.”

“How do you know you love him?” Dad asks, and maybe he means to say are you sure, what if this is just a phase, what if it’s a mistake. “Why is it different?”

“Because,” Sieg says, because fluttering heartbeats and stupid smiles and the glide of calloused fingers over his skin, because, because, because. “Because I just do. Because it feels like – like no-one else has ever felt this way so why even try to explain it?” 

Dad’s breath hitches (does he get it, did he feel that way once?). He looks at Sieg like it’s the first time, and maybe that’s not such a bad thing. 

“Please, Dad,” Sieg says at last, and he dares to reach across and grab his hand. “I just want to be happy. I just want to feel …” 

To feel something.

*

“Come for dinner, later,” Marc hums, Sieg feeling the dip of his belly where his head is rested, Marc’s fingers where they card through his hair. “Mum asked.”

“Alright,” Sieg agrees, and huffs, and laughs, just a little. “Then you can come back to my house.” 

Light flashes in and out of the overhanging branches, the air cooling against their skin. Sieg rolls just a little, presses his mouth to Marc's collarbone, throat, jaw, mouth. He can count all his tiny freckles, like stars. “Dad asked.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr.](http://thefancyspin.tumblr.com)


End file.
